


Wilde Encounters

by Swanky_Batman



Category: The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde, author fanfics
Genre: Fanfiction, Favorite Author, Multi, author fanfics - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 13:49:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanky_Batman/pseuds/Swanky_Batman
Summary: So this is a bit different- I wanted to write something for Oscar Wilde since he seemed like a pretty different point of view in his time. The problem is, I can't really look up interviews or anything so once I started writing it I think I'm mixing elements of the Picture of Dorian Gray in with it.The story follows the female reader and her parents which are trying to marry her off- the newest set being an odd charming fellow and his even more strange friend with dark curls and a flair for the dramatic.





	1. The First Encounter

“Stop being a child, Y/N.” Your father called after you as you strode towards your room.

“Stop pushing, father.” You shot back before closing your door. For the third time this week your father brought a potential suitor to dinner, every one more annoying an unbearable than the last.

You quickly tried to loosen the corset that had been suffocating you all evening, knowing your mother would order it to be tighter the next time. You were not thin, by anyone’s means including your own and you were getting to be old in your parents eyes, as you were now twenty three.

You sighed as you picked pins out of your hair and threw them on your vanity. You loosely tied a dressing gown around yo as you opened the door to your balcony, overlooking the garden. You hopped on the side of the railing, attempting to hide from your mother who would soon be here to scold you.

You were reading a book and must have lost track of time, looking up when you heard voices a little further away.

You could not hear them well, but you saw two men walking a little closer. Light bounced off the one man’s face as the other stayed fairly hidden in dark hair and clothes. They had gotten closer, you were still unnoticed.

“...really, I do not know why I come to these sorts of things. I do not want one of these little old hags throwing themselves at me.” The one you could see spoke. He had blonde hair and fancy clothes that were embroidered with bright and intricate designs.

His friend shrugged, “Then why go?”

“You know I must.” The first one sounded annoyed, “I have duties, a legacy to carry on.” He almost spat.

“None of those sound very thrilling. I will just stick to what I do.” His friend responded.

He laughed, “To disappoint societies standards and make people curse at you?”

His friend shrugged again in response, turning to him, “All of my friends are going to hell anyways. Sticking with you gives me interesting things to see and write about.”

The first one sighed, continuing to walk along before you could hear your mother’s angry footsteps coming closer from down the hall, bursting through the door.

You rolled your eyes and prepared yourself for tonight’s yelling.

\--  
The next evening, when you came home you stumbled upon the same two figures in your entry way. This time, in the light, you could make them both out easily.

You faltered momentarily when you came face to face with them.

An unladylike “Err” slipped out of our mouth as you looked around.

“Good afternoon, we are here to see Sir Y/L/N.” The blonde one bowed.

“Why?” You mumbled and then caught the slip out of the mouth before you turned around. You knew they had probably seen part of a frown appear on your face before you turned, and you cursed yourself a bit for it. 

Later that evening, your mother came in, picked out an outfit for you and made sure your helper had the corset so tight it would be hard to eat anything at all.

You tried to steady your breathing, moving slowly. You arrived and frowned again as the two figures had been seated at the table. They both sat across from you, your mother and father on either side of the table.

“This is my daughter, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N.” Your father stood with a forced smile, trying to tell you with his eyes to be polite.

You slightly bowed, as well as you could, before sitting. You quickly spotted the wine glass near you and took a sip, feeling your throat was dry.

“Very nice to meet you both, I’m sure.” You finally responded.

“I am Mr. Roger Tidwell, Ms. Y/L/N. It is a pleasure.” The blonde bowed before turning, “This is my colleague, Mr. Oscar Wilde.”

He nodded towards you with no real attention and you acknowledged him back with the same.

“Where are you from?” Your mother started her menial, annoying and deeply intense interrogation of Mr. Tidwell.

He responded and then your mother kicked you.

“Ow-” You quickly stopped, “What brings you to these parts?” You asked through a fake smile.

“I have some business while I am in town for the next couple weeks.” You were pretty sure he continued on after that but your mother got so engrossed in conversation with him you soon no longer needed to keep up with the charade. 

You kept up your drinking and found yourself in a quiet, amusing game of who could drink more without anyone noticing with the other man- oh what was his name, Mr. Wilde? You found him allowing to roll his eyes at conversation bits his friend would be talking about during dinner. You almost snorted at one point but kept your composure as your mother’s hawk eyes moved towards you. He turned to a conversation with your father which turned very animated- you were surprised, your father did not like or talk to many people.

“And yourself, Ms. Y/L/N? What hobbies do you prefer?” Mr. Tidwell turned his conversation and attention back towards you.

“I enjoy a good drink.” You smirked a little towards him and he chuckled.

“I also can appreciate a good wine. We were raised with a taste for it, did we not?”

You let his question go by before continuing on, “And reading. Although I would rather not call it a hobby…” Your mother mumbled something under her breath before asking him something else.

A little while later, after you assumed an appropriate time, you excused yourself and walked out of the room.

You quickly heard a shuffling following you out and were surprised to see Mr. Tidwell trying to catch up to you.

“Ms. Y/L/N, if I may be so bold as to ask when I may see you again?” He slightly bowed his head, “You see, I barely learned anything about you…”

You paused, jaw open a little, confused.

He started again, “Your father has been kind enough to offer my friend and myself to stay here for the next week- would it be alright to take up some of your time?”

You slightly moved to leave and answered, “I suppose you may…” You took quite a few steps and whispered, “But there will not be any of my time to have.” You whispered determinedly as you walked into your room and immediately fought against your corset, beginning to breath less carefully. You stripped down again and pulled out some pins, throwing on your nightgown and yanking your book with you towards the balcony.

Again, you were reading until almost dark outside- a strong breeze pushing your hair over your face. You finally looked around you and noticed a pair of eyes meeting yours. They looked eager and interested and belonged to that dark haired friend of Mr. Tidwell’s. 

You blushed a little and hopped down off the balcony, thoughts running through your head. Had you been indecently uncovered? More than you should. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before walking inside.

Your mother had not come that night to yell. Maybe the guests were too close to your room and she was worried about her precious Mr. Tidwell overhearing.

\--

Quickly and quietly the next morning you woke up, got ready, and walked outside- planning to walk towards a grove with a couple of books. You were supposed to practice piano later and you actually enjoyed it since you could lose yourself in the music.

You walked quickly and did not slow until you were well off the path and into the trees.

You breathed, deeply and without that stupid corset- leaning against a tree.

“What would you call reading?” A voice broke the peace around you and you almost shrieked, whipping around.

You frowned slightly, “Mr. Wilde, have you been following me?”


	2. The Breathing Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Determined that this will be the fit, the readers mother sets Mr. Tidwell up with a more intimate dinner.

He chuckled, “I assure you I did not mean to pry last night.” He stepped closer, looking towards your book, “This morning you seemed to be acting peculiar and I was entertained with the idea of following you.”

You set your face, “This was all I was doing, sneaking out to breath freely and read in peace. Disappointed?”

He grinned, “Only if you are that interested in your book and it is a simple romance.”

You blushed a little and turned your book so he could read the title, his eyebrows raised.

“A History of the Conflict between Religion and Science,” He met your eyes and then he shifted his gaze over your person. “And what is your take on them?”

“On History? Religion? Science? Or conflicts?” You answered back, aware he was still studying you.

He smirked a little, squinting his eyes, “I do believe you are more than what one first sees. Shall I write a poem or a character about you?” He stepped closer, leaning down, “Would that please you?”

You remained unmoved, not sure on how to respond to his odd gesture.

He laughed in return, “You are quite the curvy young woman.” Your jaw set and he chuckled to himself, “I meant no offense.”

You allowed your eyes to wander over him, his appearance dark and alluring. He wanted to be noticed and he wanted to be fashionable- he seemed cheerful and dark. Who was this strange man?

“I am bold, I admit. When I see something as peculiar and- something as potential as you, I must know more about it.” He grinned a little, his eyes flashing darkly, “Every adult wonders about possibilities that most claim to be shameful.” He leaned down, “Do you ever wonder about such things?”

You gulped a little, “Are you asking if I wonder about sexual acts, Mr. Wilde?” You threw your head back and laughed, “If every adult wonders about such, as you claim, should I not also wonder about them?”

He grinned a little smugly, “Not the response I was expecting.”

“What would that have been? A slap in the face?” You leaned closer, nearing his face and meeting his eyes, “I imagine someone like you would use that in some way to your advantage.” You turned away from him and walked a little further, sitting on a tree to read.

He sat down next to you on the tree and said, “I feel our lives have begun to be intertwined, Y/N.”

You glanced at him after he used your first name without asking, “You are a writer and I am an old maid. We have not much in common that I can tell.”

“Roger, you know, likes things he seems not to be able to have.” He met your eyes fiercely, “If you avoid him, he will want you. You could get married off to him and live well.”

“How boring.” You sighed, leaning back a little.

“Maybe. Perhaps, I could keep you entertained.” He chuckled, “He seems to dislike me quite a bit for having me around a lot of the time.”

“So you are suggesting I marry him so you have the chance to entertain me?”

“I am pointing out merely that the harder you fight, the more he will want you. Your parents will marry you off to him, or any offer, of that I am quite sure.” He leaned in close to you, “And if you wish to have an ally, I am simply offering one.” He breathed on your neck, making you shiver and he stood up.

“I am off. Be careful about, I hear there could be a big bad wolf out.” He popped his hat down over his eyes.

“I feel as if I have already crossed paths with him.” You spoke loud enough for him to hear before he left. 

You spent a couple of hours out reading before making your way towards your piano lesson. You got agitated when you learned that Mr. Tidwell would be there and almost ignored him, which would surely get back to your mother. You just wanted to play today, forget everything that was happening around you.

You practiced ‘Maiden’s Prayer’, one of your favorite pieces to play recently and you were almost completely through it. After you went over it again and again, well over an hour later, you noticed that Mr. Wilde had joined Mr. Tidwell in viewing you.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to remember the conversation you had earlier with him or else you’d blush. You talked with your tutor about things you could work out with the piece before leaving the room, quickening your pace. 

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Mr. Tidwell strode up behind you. You tried to pretend not to hear him but he caught the back of your arm.

You stopped and turned around, “Yes, Mr. Tidwell?” You caught Mr. Wilde smirking out of the corner of your eye. 

“Your performance was excellent, I enjoyed myself.” He gave you a grin, trying to hold your gaze.

“Thank you.” You set your jaw- as if you were playing for him.

“I was wondering if we might enjoy a meal tonight, away from your family?” He didn’t seen to notice your disinterest. 

“I’m sure my mother will do whatever you ask.” You gave a fake smile before turning back around to walk up the hall.

\------

You sighed, leaning on your hand against the edge of your balcony again. Your mother had been by to scold you from your conversation, even though Mr. Tidwell seemed to continue his interest in you.

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand? O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!” You jumped as you looked below you and saw Mr. Wilde standing there.

You smiled despite yourself, “Thou quotes Shakespeare? Running out of your own work?”

“Running out?” He chuckled, “So you would be impressed by my own work.” He stated it, rather than a question and taking out a cigarette. “I told you, Roger likes a chase.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “I can see that. How do I get him to leave?”

He laughed, lighting and inhaling before answering, “I’m not sure, actually. No one has ever really told Roger no.” 

“So he’ll just take the first one who rejects him? Sounds like he has something flipped.” You looked down, “Can’t you try and talk to him?”

He shrugged, “Maybe I am selfish. After all, if he takes you I get to spend time around you.”

“You tease, sir. If you will not even ask for my benefit or his then you are despicable.” You teased back.

“I’ve been called worse by people I’ve held in lower regards.”

You laughed, “There are people whom you value less than me? I take pity on those poor souls.”

There was a knock on your door and you sighed.

“I’ll see you for dinner, then?” He grinned, finishing his cigarette before turning to walk back inside.

“Come in.” You groaned a little as you were done up yet again. It seemed like your mother was trying to outdo herself every night and it got harder to eat and drink. And breathe. She really didn’t seem to mind, though. Your mother, that is. 

“I can’t breathe!” You said again as she tried to get it even tighter.

“You can if you’re answering, love.” She hummed, moving around to help get you dressed.

Close to an hour later she deemed you fit “enough” to go out to the dining hall.

Everyone stood as you and your mother entered the hall and Mr. Tidwell walked over to take your arm.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled at you and it took everything in you not to glare at him.

“It looks a little hard for her to breathe.” Mr. Wilde looked over for a second before looking back down at his food.

Mr. Tidwell furrowed his brow, looking you over again.

“Don’t fret, she’s fine.” Your mother spoke, nudging you a little to smile.

“I had them set us up here for tonight, would that be alright?” Mr. Tidwell, showed you over to another small table on the other side of the room. He didn’t really wait for a response but you supposed it was good he asked.

“So-” He started after a minute of silence. You took your glass of wine and tried to take a sip. “What are some things you like and dislike?”

You tried to breathe, “I think I covered some topics yesterday on likes- as for the dislikes,” You met his eyes, “I am not very fond of corsets.”

He chuckled and you tried to crack a fake smile but it was getting harder and harder to move and breathe. “This afternoon you weren’t wearing one, correct?” He asked and you shook your head. “To be fair I do not usually recognize fashion and styles but-” He paused, debating on if he should say something.

“My shape looks much different with and without one.” You tried to laugh, only not fully able to because of the corset.

He looked down and blushed, “Well, yes, I suppose. I think you look beautiful both ways.”

You looked over to the other table and met eyes with Mr. Wilde. “That is nice of you to say.”

He shifted and you turned your attention back towards Mr. Tidwell. “I was actually wondering, Ms. Y/L/N if one might consider answering a sensitive subject?”

You paused, waiting for him to continue but he was waiting- either for a response or something else to happen but you nodded a little, trying not to gasp in front of him for breathe.

He smiled, “I was wondering if you might- well, if you might consider making me a very happy man and becoming my betrothed?”

You stopped, mid-raise with your glass and stared at his face. He meant it, he was expecting an answer. What were supposed to say to that? Is that why your mother insisted on your outfit tonight? Had your parents known already and were they assuming you to go along with this ridiculous idea?

Suddenly, your chest heaved a little and you couldn’t find any air at all. You gasped for a few moments, bobbing your head and trying to calm down but it was hot- you were sweating and then this?

Everyone from the other table had their attention on you now but you couldn’t bother worrying about your impression, you had no air.

Mr. Wilde said something towards your mother and father and then stood up.

You fell unconscious.


	3. The Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up, the reader finds some interesting propositions.

Your conscious slowly faded in, your eyes flickering open. 

“I was starting to think you would stay unconscious out of spite.”

Your head spun towards your balcony, “Wilde?” You asked, blinking.

You saw a dark shadow of him, his eyes focused on you, “You are alright, aren’t you?”

You breathed in slowly, nodding slightly. 

“Good. Now listen to me- take his offer.” You still couldn’t see him completely, “I’ll help you.”

A quick knock on the door which opened immediately after turned your attention away.

Your mother popped her head around which made you frown. “I thought I heard you moving about.” She entered, followed by Mr. Tidwell, “How are you feeling now?” She whispered towards Mr. Tidwell, “She’s always been a little overdramatic.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked over at the balcony, the dark figure no longer there. Had you imagined him?

“May I speak to your daughter, alone?” Mr. Tidwell spoke up.

“Oh, of course, of course.” She giggled, throwing you a look over her shoulder that you actually thought might set you on fire. Shortly after she shut the door, Mr. Tidwell turned back to you.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” His face actually looked a slight bit worried as he searched yours.

“I apologize for causing a scene, Mr. Tidwell.” You rubbed your head.

“No, please- I should have made sure you were comfortable before-” He looked down at his hands, “Is there anything I can get you?”

Your jaw set and you shook your head.

“I know this isn’t a good time but…” His eyes came up to meet you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You cleared your throat and waited for the nod and smile. “Why are you set on me?”

He paused, a look of confusion on his face. “Who wouldn’t be-”

“You know very well who wouldn’t be.” You frowned, “You know next to nothing about me except that-”

“You’re stubborn, hard-headed, defiant-” He started, and then his voice lowered slightly, “Lovely, intelligent and brave.”

Your head lowered and he touched the bottom of your chin, pulling your face to his. Your brows furrowed a little but you let yourself get pulled in- maybe you should have felt something move in you. Instead, you started a plan in your head- worst case scenario, you would be away from your parents.

You pulled away after a moment and bit your lip, turning away from him. “I accept.” You answered, a little deflated.

“You-”

“I accept your offer of marriage, Mr. Tidwell.” You threw him a quick smile. There was a pause, “If you do not mind, however, I would like to get some rest.”

“Of course, of course.” He stood, “I’ll check on you in the morning.” He took your hand and kissed it. “Until then, my love.”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment, waiting for him to shut the door. Once he did you moved towards the balcony, sighing. 

Looking over the edge you spotted a dark image below. You heard a low chuckle before it moved inside. You stood, staying quiet and trying to form a plan in your head. It felt nice outside and you enjoyed the peace, knowing your mother would probably be visiting soon. She would be thrilled.

Over the course of the next month, to your dismay, your mother pushed for the wedding to be soon. 

She tried to keep you and Mr. Tidwell close, to which he seemed pleased. 

Currently, you were hiding in the garden the day before your wedding.

“Got any jitters?” A voice spoke to you, walking up to sit on the same bench.

“Why should I, Mr. Wilde?” You flipped the page of your book.

He looked over towards you, studying you. “Some would say a life changing event would phase them.”

You stayed quiet, finishing the page you were working on.

He spoke up again, “It seems our lives are intertwined, as I predicted.”

You snorted, “You practically forced the connection.”

He gave a slight smile, “I am merely a bystander.”

“Says the puppetmaster.”

At this he laughed, causing you to look up. His dark curls seemed to soften his face in this light. “Your husband to be is a busy man, you won’t get a honeymoon for a few months.”

You paused, “Does he have a library?”

“You are something else. You know next to nothing about him yet you ask about his book collection.”

“It’s the size that counts, isn’t it?” You grinned, standing up.

“Quality material can matter as well.” He stood next to you, raising your hand to his lips making your heart quicken. 

You walked back inside, getting bombarded by you mother not long after. She brought you to see Mr. Tidwell but not before tightening your corset again.

“There you are.” He grinned towards you as you entered, your mother leaving rather quickly. He offered an arm towards you to help you to a seat. “How are you?”

“Alright, how are you?” You smiled a little tightly towards him.

“A little nervous about tomorrow but can’t wait.”

“You and my mother have the same thoughts then.” You grinned towards him as he brought you a glass of wine.

“I wish to tell you something and I don’t wish to distress you…” He spoke.

“You distress me by pausing, what is it?” You asked, setting your glass down. 

“I have some business that will take me away shortly- would it be completely absurd of me to ask to push our trips together back?”

You giggled immediately, “Of course not, don’t be silly.”

He smiled, “Good, I’m very glad-now, we have another matter to attend, hmm?”

“Our wedding.” You smiled in return, sighing under your breath. You were unsure what exactly about him you did not like. He seemed to genuinely like you, he asked your thoughts on things and he seemed to look after you more since the incident. He was handsome enough, although he seemed a little into himself at times and your conversations with him could be a little one sided- either from his lack of understanding on your topic or your lack of offering to a topic he mentioned. 

The wedding should have made you feel many things- excited, nervous, thrilled, enamoured. Instead, the only thing it could bring from you with any certainty was a hope that this would be the last time for a while that you would have to wear a silly corset on the tightest setting possible. 

Walking down the aisle, you studied many faces about the room. Your mother was already crying her eyes out, telling whoever was sitting near her about the excellent match- some friends about town seemed happy for you, except for your tutor who was sad to see you leave. Mr. Tidwell seemed all of the things you should be feeling at the moment, adding a dash of proud. His parents were also in attendance supposedly but where you didn’t know. Mr. Wilde’s eyes seemed to follow your every movement about the room, a look that perplexed you and made your heartbeat quicken. 

When you turned near the end you saw your father, a look of worry and stress had disappeared from his features as he handed you over to Mr. Tidwell. 

The ceremony went on for a while, making you stand uncomfortably while hundreds of people watched on from their seats. 

And then, it was over. You had finished what you set out to do, unsure of what would happen from here but content it would be different than your previous experiences. Your parents had invited everyone back to their house to celebrate. Dancing and drinking had broken out, leaving you alone for only a moment with your new husband.

“Quite the party.” Wilde found you momentarily on the side of the room, trying to avoid people for a minute. “Seems a lot of people have come out to celebrate you.”

“Yes,” You snorted, “Celebrate me leaving.” You tried to breath.

“Why don’t you take that ridiculous thing off now?” He asked, nodding towards your corset. 

“My mother won’t want it to come off until…” You thought about what you were supposed to be doing after this and shivered, taking his drink away from him and finishing it quickly, handing him back his cup.

“Oh, come now.” He leaned towards you, “The act really is quite pleasing. If you do it right.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, “Have a good time, Mr. Wilde.”

“Likewise.” He grinned before disappearing into the crowd of people. 

Hours later, after dancing and drinking and eating and saying goodbye to everyone- you were meant to go back to your room accompanied by your husband.


End file.
